Cockamamie
by Crayola Hearts
Summary: They say Dragons are hoarders, and while Rogue does his fair share of hoarding, so does his partner. #6 Toy Dinosuars
1. Playing Nurse

**_Summary:_** _After loosing a bet he really didn't want to make in the first place, Rogue is suck 'playing nurse' for a sick Sting. _

**_Rating:_**_ K+_

**_Artist Comments:_**_ I need a good idea for the Rogue one-shot you guys voted on. Unfortunately, while I was going through my pictures in the Fairy Tail folder of my favorites on deviantART, I came across a colored line art of Lucy as a nurse. The plot bunnies made love and look what we have here…this ridiculous thing. _

_. Don't forget to vote on the poll on my profile for the character. It's been limited to 4 now, but the same characters won't appear each month; come November there'll be four different characters. As of right now, there is an enormous total of 3 votes. Come on guys, I'll give whoever votes a cookie. (and I promise the others won't be as bad; this is just my sad excuse for humor V.V)_

Playing Nurse

Why him?

Of all the people who had been in on that stupid bet, why had he been the one who lost? Perhaps he should have listened to Yukino and put his money with everyone else's, and then maybe he wouldn't be in this ridiculous situation. The only thing that could have made it worse was if they tried to force him into a nurse's uniform; but they hadn't.

No, waiting hand and foot on a grumpy and demanding Sting was torture enough. He had learned his lesson; never again would he let himself be drug into one of Ogra's bets. At this point he was so pissed and irritated he couldn't remember what he had even bet on. Sting's inane babbling in the background wouldn't let him keep a thought in his mind for more than a moment anyway.

"Will you shut up?" he growled, throwing a sopping wet towel at him.

Rogue was usual a calm, level-headed man, but faced with his current task; he found it amazing he hadn't run his sword through him yet; Sting was slowly chipping away his last bit of patience.

"But Rogue!" Sting whined deliriously.

"I'm not massaging your feet, now shut up."

"But they hurt!"

"They smell horrible too." The Dragonslayer muttered.

Was five minutes of silence too much to ask for?

"Rogue?"

"For the love of - what do you want?"

"Hug me?"

He barely kept a groan of exasperation from escaping him. "No, you're delirious, go to sleep."

"I want soup."

"You just had soup."

"You're mean."

"You're annoying."

Sting didn't reply. The Dragonslayer breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in the plush chair he had claimed. His head was throbbing. It was like this every time he was sick; it was to the point where they'd end up physically fighting to get out of being the unfortunate soul who had to deal with him.

"Rogue!"

And it starts again…

"What?"

"I looooovveee you!" The blonde drawled, an uncharacteristic giggle following.

For a moment, Rogue couldn't speak. He stared at the delirious Dragonslayer with a horrified expression, he couldn't believe his ears. Not only had he said he _loved him_ he had _giggled_. In all the years he had known him, Sting did not _giggle_.

"What?" Was all he managed in reply.

"I loooveee youu!" He replied, spreading his arms, "I love you this much!"

"Sting."

"Hmm?"

"Go to sleep before I strangle you."


	2. Makin' Bacon

**Summary:** One thing was for sure, he was never going to make anything for them again.

**Rating:** K+

**Artist Comments:** _I don't know_ _The idea came into my head and left in such a boring and stupid fashion. I need to work on my humor_

**_Don't forget to vote on the poll on my fanfiction profile for the character. It's been limited to 4 now, but the same characters won't appear each month; come November there'll be four different characters. As of right now, there is an enormous total of 7 votes. Come on guys, I'll give whoever votes a cookie. _**

Don't forget to go to my fanfiction profile and vote on the poll~ Those who vote get a cookie with sprinkles.

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**_Makin' Bacon_**

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Rogue didn't know how it had happened.

Everything started off as a normal day; he woke up and got Frosch up. As usual Sting and Lector had somehow found away into his home last night, more than likely too lazy to walk the extra block to their own appratment. Standing in the hallway, he gazed upon the sight with an impassive face, though inside he was slightly annoyed. Sting lay on his couch, if you could call it that; he was half on and half off, the top of his head resting on the polished wooden floor and one leg draped over the back of the leather furniture. His mouth was agape, a thin, clear film of drool running down the left side of his face. His Exceed lay on a plush pillow, sprawled out in the same manner; a small bubble on his nose filling and deflating as he slept.

Sighing, Rouge ran a hand through his messy hair. He was half dressed; the hem of his black pants falling a bit lower than anyone would have suspected, displaying the top of his dark blue boxers. In his current attire, he looked more like a rowdy teenage boy who woke up after one hell of a party than the conservative and modest Dragonslayer he was; his half lidded eyes and look of disinterest only helped to amplify the image. Glancing over the living room, he grunted in discontent and carefully maneuvered around the upper half of Sting's body and the pillow that held the winged cat, nearly tripping over one of Sting's discarded shoes.

Rogue usually had a deadly grace about him, but at seven in the morning when he was hardly awake and perturbed by the intruders, grace was the last thing he seemed to possess. His foot caught on something else, sending him face first into the linoleum that covered his kitchen floor, earning a giggle from Frosch. Groaning, he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled into the kitchen, slumping against the counter. Beside him, a pot of coffee brewed, almost ready and steaming with a crisp aroma. Never in his life had he been happier he let Sting talk him into something; the coffee maker was automatic - every morning when woke up a freshly brewed pot waited for him. All he had to do was remember to put the grounds in the night before.

Grabbing a mug, he poured a couple spoonfuls of sugar into the bottom and filled it with the steaming liquid. Sting stirred slightly, mumbling something about fried octopus, and fell silent. He wondered how late they had been out last night: Sting was usually up at the butt-crack-of-dawn. Shaking his head, the Dragonslayer turned to the refrigerator, looking over the stock to see what could be for breakfast. Sting hated vegetables and eggs, while Frosch hated anything green and crunchy in general. Lector would eat whatever as long as it wasn't pancakes or waffles.

_So much for making an omelette._ He thought with a sigh, moving things around.

All he had was a pound of bacon and the left over cookie dough from the cookies he had promised to make Frosch if she stopped crying. _And she wonders why I won't let her watch scary movies._

Lector stirred, sitting up with a yawn. He looked around a bit and stretched before waddling into the kitchen. Still sleepy, he waked into the table, almost knocking Frosch off her perch on the edge. She let out a startled cry and flailed her arms viciously, barely regaining her balance. The red furred creature climbed onto one of the wooden chairs surrounding his simple dinner table and yawned again.

"Fro thinks Sting is so sloppy."

Rouge grunted in agreement, turning around in time to catch a wooden spoon as Lector raised it to whack her for insulting 'the Great Sting'.

As if the mention of his name was some kind of cue, Sting stirred, tumbling off the couch and onto the floor with a loud thud. "What the-!"

Rogue rolled his eyes, bending down to retrieve a pan form the cabinets beside his sink. Setting it on the burner, he measured out the grease and turned the knob on the front of the contraption. With a loud thud, he dropped the frozen package of bacon on the counter and turned around. Sting was lifting himself off the ground, pausing only to wipe the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, brows furrowing at the sight of the clear liquid. "Why didn't anyone tell me I was drooling?"

"Because you were sleeping," came Rogue's tired reply.

Sting stood, cracking his shoulders and neck before shuffling to the kitchen, "You need a more comfortable couch, I can't keep sleeping on that."

"You have your own bed, in your own apartment."

The blonde grumbled in reply and sat in another seat, eyeing his partner. "I haven't seen you dressed like that in a while."

Rogue grunted in reply, opening the sealed package and laying the strips in the bottom of the pan. "Too lazy to get dressed," he replied with a yawn.

"We're not doing anything today, are we?"

"If it can be helped, no."

Before long, the apartment was filled with the delicious smell of cooking bacon and Sting found his mouth watering. Frosch and Lector had moved to the counter, watching the meat sizzle away, eyes large and wide, and a small bead of drool escaping for their mouths. When it was finally done, Rogue distributed it evenly and set the plates on the table. Sting pounced on it as if he hadn't eaten in days.

Frosch tried to steal one of Lector's pieces when he wasn't looking; unfortunately the winged cat caught her. He grabbed a piece of his own and hit her with in, causing her to tear up. In one of her rare attempts to retaliate, she retrieved a piece of her own and threw it, missing completely. The juicy breakfast meat soared through the air, landing right on Sting's forehead. For a moment everything stilled.

_Don't do it, don't do it, I swear if you do it..._

In a flash, there was bacon flying every which way, getting stuck on one thing only to be pulled off and used as ammunition once more. One piece in particular found its way on top of Rogue's head, danging in front of his eyes as he sighed with annoyance. Some poor plate had been pulled into the mix, colliding with his head and shattering into a number of pieces, but the chaos ensued. Standing abruptly, Rogue threw his chair back and grabbed the collar of Sting's shirt, all but dragging him to the door.


	3. Frosch's Boyfreind

_**Author's Note: **__You can kill me now. _

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He'd never be used to their antics.

They had just finished their job to destroy a few monsters terrorizing a small village in the mountains; a simple quest that they may have been a bit overkill for, but their master had sent them none the less. It had taken less than an hour to find and destroy all three of them, leaving them with a mountain of free time on their hands and in a small town built of nothing but latched roofs and wooden plants, there wasn't much to do. It was Lector who came up with the idea by doing what he does best: teasing Frosch.

It started off a simple conversation, or more of Sting bragging about his latest girlfriend.

"I'm telling you, she's probably the best yet!" Sting said proudly, motioning to his chest.

Rogue rolled his eyes, growing tired of the repeated statement, "Sting, they're probably fake."

The blonde scoffed, "You're just mad because you've never had contact with anyone of the opposite sex. Even Lector had a girlfriend at one point!"

"Sting, that was one if your sluts who was more interested in the cat than you," Rogue replied, mild irritation showing in his voice."

Lector shook his head, ignoring the arguing mages for the time being. He let his large eyes scan the area before him before they landed on something; a bright green frog sitting on a tree stump. Ideas began formulating in his mind and he turned to the bickering mages, "Frosch has a boyfriend!"

Silence fell over them. Both Dragonslayers exchanged a confused look before focusing on the Exceed, whose expression mirrored theirs. "Wha?"

"Right there!" Lector said, pointing to the frog.

It croaked.

It wasn't long before Sting fell backwards in a fit of laughter that had tears forming in his eyes. Even Rogue couldn't help himself at the comment. Frosch turned to the offending amphibian and winced as its throat bulged.

"Wha! You guys are so mean!"


	4. A Little Bit of Alcohol

_**Summary: **__There were reasons Sting never let Rogue go to the bars after the day's end._

_**Rating: **__K+_

_**Artist Comments: **__I don't know The idea came into my head and left in such a boring and stupid fashion. I need to work on my humor_

Don't forget to vote on the poll on my fanfiction profile for the character. It's been limited to 4 now, but the same characters won't appear each month; come November there'll be four different characters. As of right now, there is an enormous total of 7 votes. Come on guys, I'll give whoever votes a cookie.

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_**A Little Bit of Alcohol**_

There were reasons Sting never let Rogue go to the bars after the day's end.

Looking beside him, the blonde shook his head and grumbled as Rogue downed his fourth glass of rum. Across the table, Frosch eyed her partner with concern noting that he had already started swaying a bit violently. His crimson orbs shifted this way and that, unable to focus on anything for long. The blonde sighed, setting his glass down.

"Oi, Rogue. You've had enough."

The Dragonslayer turned to him, a look so stupid it could have only belonged to a drunk painting his face. "Sting! Did you paint your nails? They look so pretty!"

Sting stared at him dumbfounded before bursting into a fit of laughter. He did _not _just say that. The blonde was attracting many stares, but he didn't notice. Between the pain in his side and the tears in his eyes, it was impossible to do anything other than keep laughing at Rogue's ridiculous outburst.

"Well, did you?" he asked.

The blonde froze. He couldn't be serious. "Okay, you've really had too much this time."


	5. Piercings

**_Summary:_** Rouge had noticed the Exceed was distracted, but that in itself wasn't very uncommon. Frosch had the attention span of a mouse at times, especially when something shiny was involved.

**_Rating: _**_K_

**_Comments: _**These things keep getting shorter and shorter…..

I have a tumblr for my fanfiction! Follow me! **crayola-heart. tumblr. com** (no spaces)

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Pericings

What was she staring at?

Rouge had noticed the Exceed was distracted, but that in itself wasn't very uncommon. Frosch had the attention span of a mouse at times, especially when something shiny was involved. That said, the Dragonslayer assumed she had caught sight of the armored fairy across the stadium.

She started touching her face, her head tilted to the side in a pensive manner.

That's when he really began to wonder just what she had her large eyes on.

"Frosch?"

The frog-cat turned to face him, her expression innocent ant curious. "Fro wants shinnies on Fro's face."

The Dragonslayer was dumbfounded. _Shinnies? On her face?_

"The hell are you talking about?" Sting asked, looking under his arm.

"Fro wants face shinnies!"

"Face shinnies?" Rogue asked.

"Like Gajeel!"

"Oh dear god…."


	6. Toy Dinosuars

**Author's Note: **This was an old one-shot I had uploaded to deviantART and forgot to post here...anyway review?

Follow me on tumblr! **crayola-hearts. tumblr. com **(without spaces)

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They say Dragons are hoarders, and while Rogue does his fair share of hoarding, so does his partner.

Looking over the mess, he couldn't believe his eyes.

Though Frosch had her own room, she often slept in Rogue's due to the fact she scared too easily. Now he saw why she insisted on keeping her room when he wanted to use it to stash his crap; never in his life had Rogue seen so many toy dinosaurs in his life. It was like the small Exceed had raided the store down the street and tossed the plastic objects into the room. He was almost afraid to go in there for fear the mountains of toys would swallow him whole and he'd never escape. In fact, he'd rather be in the room where Sting keeps his pornographic magazines than in Frosch's room at the moment.

"Uh, Frosch, what is this?"

The green furred creature looked up at him, "Fro's toys."

"Why?"

"Because Fro likes dinosaurs."


End file.
